pocket folders of sorrow
Hi everybody. My title is borrowed from fellow Spaldingite Richard Newman's, "Briefcase of Sorrow," a terribly sad poem about the end of a teaching semester. I don't carry a briefcase, but
I do have a stack of pocket folders at my left elbow full of tonight's reading---in some cases three essays by students trying to meet the deadline after dilly-dallying all semester. After writing this blog entry I will have to go see the Humanities secretary about getting my grade-submission rosters this week instead of next; this must happen because I'm leaving town Saturday.
All of which is rather dull, but "all work and no play makes Suzy---" is it Suzy or Jack??? Play is scheduled in the near future. Overall, I have to exclaim: What a Semester. It's the first time since the early 90's that I've attempted to teach and be a student at the same time, and at my advanced age, I found this a little like --- I can't think of a good simile. Like digging an Oreo cookie out of a toaster while it's toasting??? Like hiking from Moscow to Paris??? Like pulling the hairs out of my head one by one??? Like eating twelve pounds of "freedom fries???"
Not smoking through all this has made it even more like nailing my big toe to the floor (any Christ-imagery in this simile is purely accidental).
I want to make a statement to any of my readers who are considering responding anonymously with links to very odd websites or blogs which might offer me a truly bizarre product or service.
NO THANKS!!! To those who commented intelligently on my last blog entry, thanks. I enjoyed your thoughts.
-Harriet.
posted by HL @ 9:24 AM
4 Comments:
Harriet,
I admire you for being a student and a teacher at the same time. It's a huge amount of work.
Good news that you're still off cigarettes. I really wanted a cup of coffee today, but I abstained and just had another cup of tea instead.
You can delete any junk-mail from your blog. Do you know how to do that? Your administrative page should make it possible to delete any entry you want to.
Gwen
Glad to see you've had a minute to write, Harriet. I've missed reading your blog.
Great list of similes, by the way. :) My brother told me he had this dream last week: he was trying to write an epic poem, but the only simile or metaphor he could come up with was "cute as a baby goat." He was trying to write about battles and love and all the struggles of humanity, and all he could say was "cute as a baby goat."
I feel that way sometimes. :)
Harriet,
I sent an email to you and Rae to thank you for your lovely holiday note. I sent it to
holeach@gmail.com
Let me know if I should use a different email address instead.
Thanks,
Gwen
Harriet, I received the link to this blog site from your other blog. I'd love to hear what you've been up to for the past 25 years if you want to send me an e-mail: swtracy@ou.edu. Yes, that's Sarah Tracy. Would love to hear what you have been writing and photographing and politicking for and against. A few of your entries suggest we are of a similar political stripe. I'm still in touch (though not as much as I should be) with Richard Brodhead, who is fine and composing pieces for cello for my best friend from college. He asked if I was still in touch with you last December when we talked. I had to confess I was not. Today, for whatever reason, I awoke in Oklahoma City and thought "I better get in touch with Harriet Leach" Okay, gotta go. Hope to hear from you. Sarah
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